


Lost Hearts of '85

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Magic, Depression, Gore, High School, Horror, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Gore, Monsters, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Transphobia, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 22:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith has been anxiously waiting for summer to arrive to be able to spend more time with Shiro, his brother. But when Keith gets home, his anxiety takes a different twist as he realizes that Shiro isnt where he promised to be.This is kinda like an It au but it isn't an actual thing that exists, there's more magic involved and no one dies !!!





	Lost Hearts of '85

Keith flopped on the couch the second he entered the warm home. He popped off his shoes, throwing his jacket onto the coffee table as he stretched, embracing the sweet sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. He was home, and school was out. It was summer. For Keith, summer meant lemonade and building motorcycles. No school work he would forget about. No one to give him orders. Just him, the sun, and Shiro, his older brother. That's all Keith could ever ask for. 

It was quiet in the house, considering how Shiro had promised that they would celebrate as soon as Keith got home, but Keith ignored it. Shiro wasn't good at directions or time management, but he would be home soon. Keith just knew it.

He turned on the tv, flipping through channel after channel, before his boredom became too much to bare. Keith sat up, rummaging through the old papers and notebooks, littered with material that would leak out of his brain over time, and doodles. He huffed, his eyebrows knitted as he tried to find the walkie talkie that he always brought with him. 

Keith barrier his nose into his bag, his heart picking up speed through the anxiety that filled his mind, before he sighed, pulling it out with success. Keith fiddled with the knobs, adjusting it so that he would find the right channel.

“Shiro,” he spoke plainly, his voice dry and annoyed. Keith received no answer. “Shiro, where are you? This isn't cool dipshit,” he repeated, grumbling in frustration, kissing his teeth before he flipped through the other channels with stable connections, repeatedly asking for shiro as his voice grew louder and gruffer. His leg was bouncing a mile a minute as Keith sat hunched over on the faded leather loveseat, his eyes glued to the door, as if Shiro would burst in any moment. There was no response in any station, the only sound that followed Keith’s desperate attempts of communication was static, that each time Keith received it, numbed him to his core. 

He threw the walkie talking to the side, collapsing against the couch, dragging a hand down his face. Keith tried to think about logical reasons why Shiro wasn't responding. Why Shiro wasn't home yet, a hour later then he promised to be.

_ He loses track of time. Shiro's probably just working late for extra money so they could do something even better than a movie and ice cream. A road trip. He was getting extra money for a trip to any other place than this shitty ass town. Maybe he hooked up with someone and in the heat of the moment, forgot that he had other places to be. Yea. Shiro was falling in love, making a move, where he has no time to take care of his little brother, who legally couldn't live without him. Shiro was falling in love and was going to leave him like everyone else. _

Keith shuddered, sucking in a deep, painful breath, trying to distract himself from the thoughts rushing through his head. They were ridiculous. They were irrational. 

He shoved his walkie talkie into his backpack, his fingers shaking as he zipped the bag back up, slinging it over his shoulder before Keith rushed out of the house, back into the summer heat. 

There was a moment of hesitation, his fingers curling and coiling against the strings of his back, his eyes darting back and forth between the motorcycle and bike leaning against the open garage door. The motorcycle allowed for him to cover more ground, but it was also technically illegal. The bike was not, but required more energy.

His muscles screamed as he swung his body over the motorcycle, aggressively pulling the helmet over his head as the engine revved, the humming filling his ears, clearing his mind as he kicked up the stand and moved the bike forward slightly, before pulling the garage door close and rocketing down the driveway. 

The wind rolled off of him as he raced down the neighborhood, the odd sensation of calm washing over the nerves building in his heart. 

He rode down and past the crumbling houses, the windows broken and the paint chipped, desperate for attention and just the smallest bit of care, of which none of the inhabitants could possibly afford.

Keith swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat, his eyes turned towards the road as he swerved left into town. His eyes darted down the streets, trying to catch as much detail as possible in his surroundings. Anything that could show a sign of Shiro. He saw nothing.

He pulled up in front of the arcade, leaning the motorcycle on its stand, placing his helmet underneath his arm as he walked in.

The lights were obnoxious in color and luminosity, flickering in and out of existence as music blared. The floor was covered in neon squiggles that glowed. It was noisy, kids of all ages screaming out of frustration and success, the mad smashing of buttons and the loud chatter made it feel so small and destructive. Like as if Keith just entered the small, core of the earth, and it was threatening to explode. 

He squinted through the crowd, pushing his way through until he reached the counter that was located at the back of the store. Matt Holt was there, squished behind the cash register, food surrounding him on either side. He worked up slightly at the sight of him. Matt was one of the only people he could consider a friend, and they barely even talked.

Matt was also the key to some answers.

“Hey Keith! I'm surprised that you could slip past Shiro so easily,” a coy smile placed against the boy's lips, letting out a small chuckle as he leaned against the counter. “He was basically bouncing with excitement, dude. He couldn't wait to head home!”

Matt laughed again, and Keith felt his heart drop. The easy going facade he tries to play fell, and he stood there, fist shaking and nose flared, trying to do his best to stop the tantrum was about to be set off. Matt looked at him, his eyes scanning him like how the robots did in the movies Shiro tried to make him watch. The smirk fading slowly, being replaced by a concerning frown.

“You wanna head to the back? Go outside and talk? Because you look like you're ready to rip Pac Man’s head off,” Matt joked, adjusting his glasses, his hands gripping the outer edges of the counter. Keith didn't trust himself to talk. Not in a place full of people. He nodded, turning on his heels, walking out the doors as quickly as possible.

The smell of smoke filled his nose. He grimaced, turning his head to see Lotor and his gang smoking cigarettes outside. Keith resisted the urge to slam his fist against Lotor’s face, knowing that there was no time for him. No time for fights when you're brother’s missing. Barely any time left in the world.

He was halfway to his motorcycle when he heard the heavy fall of footsteps and the light chime of the door swinging open. Matt was basically running across the parking lot to catch up. 

Keith slowed down, no matter how much his body screamed to move faster. He needed Matt for information. Maybe a job or a place to stay or more. Matt was the only person Keith knew who would ever willingly put up with him besides Shiro, and if there was, then Keith wasn't as annoying as he presumed he was after all. 

Matt caught up, catching his breath and coughing- a mixture between asthma and smoke inhalation- his hands scrambling through his pockets, pulling an inhaler out of the left one and taking a short puff. Keith had stopped completely, afraid that if he moved an inch further Matt would drop to the ground and have an asthma attack. He gave him a short pat in the back, hoping that it would help Matt one way or another.

Matt offered a small smile, coughing once more before speaking “You and Shiro didn't get into a fight or anything, did ya?”

“No,” Keith bit his tongue, his left fist clenched against his helmet as he crossed his arms, avoiding the concerned look Matt was giving off. “H- he's gone. I don't know where he is and I'm kind of freaking out,”

There was a long period of silence, the sun beating down on top of the pair. Matt didn't move, but Keith could tell that he wanted to. He could tell by the way his arm kept fidgeting and the way and he was rolling on his heels that he wanted to  _ do _ something. Like Matt wanted to give Keith a hug and tell him that everything would be alright. But they both knew it wasn't.

The town had a history for stuff like this. People disappearing and never coming back. It was absolutely off the charts, considering how the town wasn't that heavily populated- maybe a population of six hundred people, possibly more. 

“He said he was going to get some pizza. And ice cream. Go rent a movie. He left around one. Shiro should have been back by now,” Matt’s voice was soft and broken, his head lowered to the ground in a respectful way. “I'll give you an update on whether he shows up or not. You can come over for dinner at my place. Talk it over more there, maybe get some extra help. You can't report him missing for 24 hours, otherwise the police won't give a damn,” he lifted his head, squinting as the sun reflected off of his lens. Matt spoke calmly, giving Keith a nod of reassurance.

“We’ll find him, Keith. Trust me, everything will be okay,”

The promise wasn't empty, the hope lingered and hung against the softly spoken words, but Keith’s heart was weighed down by greif. There was little that he had ever believed in, and know, with Shiro gone, there was little to have faith in.

Keith smiled bitterly, taking in a tight breath of air as Matt clasped his shoulder, a soft and sincere look that made Keith want to believe every word he spoke was true. So, he nodded, turning his back, walking towards the bike, Matt’s warm gaze burning at the back of his mind.

“Isn't that illegal?” Matt called out, forcing a smile to pass over his face. Keith nodded, swinging his legs over the bike, revving the engine.

“Yea. It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters switch POV, so the next one will be coming for Shiro's. The first few chapters revolve around Keith & Shiro, but will change later on. This also won't be updated as regularly as I wish it could because of school.
> 
> Lance, Hunk and everyone else will be introduced later on, because Keith and Shiro really set the plot in motion.


End file.
